


Wordless

by hybridempress



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 15:25:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7468920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hybridempress/pseuds/hybridempress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the silence is all you need to show someone how you really feel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wordless

**Author's Note:**

> Fic number 2 for tumblr's aph france week. I've never written an AusFra fic before so this was a lot of fun. Based off of a headcanon that someone on Tumblr sent me.

It was times like these when the chirping of cicadas in the dead of night were comparable to any of Mozart’s symphonies. The tune was just as sweet, just as calming as any piano melody. When everything else in the world was so terribly overwhelming, sometimes the best thing you can do is sit outside while the city is asleep and wish that you were too.

Roderich was sure that after the day he had had He would have slept like a baby. He was exhausted. And yet, all he could do as he settled into the soft mattress of the bed in his hotel room was toss and turn and stare at the ceiling in a place that was far too quiet to be comfortable. 

It wasn’t so bad here, though. This garden, this little park across the street from the hotel, where the flowers were vibrant even in the moonlight and you could see more stars than anyone else in the city. It was as close to Heaven as one could get in the bittersweet void of the Earth. 

The night was quiet except for that chirping. Roderich would swear that you could hear a pin drop in this near-silence. With that being said, Roderich’s brows furrowed when he heard rhythmic footsteps coming towards him, at this time where everything in the world should have been at rest. 

He turned his head towards the source of the noise. In the distance he could see a figure bobbing up and down along the curb of bricks that was placed around the flower bed and the shrubs. The figure was wearing a simple white dress and an open red jacket. They had golden blond hair that swept their shoulders, bouncing in time with their footsteps. 

Roderich recognized who it was before they even came close enough for Roderich to see their face. Who else could have such a spring in their step at this time of night? No one but Francis Bonnefoy could have such a spring in their step at this time of night, or hair that always looked magical and glowing no matter what the time of day was. That was a fact. 

At first, Roderich found himself rather annoyed. This was _his_ safe space. How dare Francis invade his paradise like this, with all of his swagger and that aura of overconfidence that always seemed to follow him. That was the last thing that Roderich wanted to deal with right now.

And yet, as Francis came closer to him, and finally noticed him sitting alone on that bench in the dead of night, Francis did not even bother to say hi. No, Francis did not say a word to Roderich that night. He did not stop his walking, nor did he remove himself from the curb that he was striding along. 

Instead, Francis offered Roderich a faint smile and kept walking with the kind of grace and elegance that you would only see in a gymnast or a ballerina. The smile was that of a man who was managing to find some happiness in a time of hardship. Roderich found himself nodding in silent acknowledgment; an understanding that he and Francis were in the same situation. He did not break eye contact until Francis had passed behind him. 

That was not the last time that the two of them crossed paths with each other in such a way. Meetings ended, nights fell, and amongst the chorus of cicadas Roderich always ended up hearing those steady footsteps across the curbs that enclosed the flower beds in any garden he found himself in. And every time, Francis would give him that same smile that let Roderich know he would never be alone in what he was feeling. 

It was almost bizarre how these midnight meetings soon became what could only be called trysts as yet another wordless understanding came between them. They hardly spoke to one another outside of work and yet they felt more at ease with each other than they ever did with anyone else. They were less than friends, and less than lovers, yet so much more than both all at the same time. 

Roderich was surprised one night when Francis stepped down from his curb and joined Roderich on his bench, sitting in silence and once again casting that smile at Roderich before looking up at the sky as if to try and count all the stars that were visible tonight. Still, neither of them spoke to each other. There wasn’t anything that needed to be said. They both knew why they were here; why spending this time together made them happier than anything else did. 

The next time around, when Roderich heard those footsteps coming towards him, Roderich stood up from his bench. When Francis came by him, and noticed that he wasn’t sitting in his usual spot, the Frenchman’s usual smile was replaced by the cock of his eyebrow paired with the curious glint in his eyes. This time, it was Roderich’s turn to give Francis that smile, and he fell in step beside Francis, on the pathway beneath Francis’ curb. 

They would alternate like this. Some nights Francis would come and sit next to Roderich on his bench. Some nights Roderich would walk beside Francis while Francis stayed just a little bit above the rest of the world. Sometimes they would hold hands as they walked. Sometimes Francis would rest his head on Roderich’s shoulder as they sat together. Sometimes they kissed each other “hello” when they met each other. Sometimes they kissed each other “goodnight” when they left the garden together. They never said a word.

These meetings weren’t dates, but they were trysts. Francis and Roderich weren’t lovers, but they were in love. They weren’t sure where to go from here, or how to progress. They weren’t sure that they needed to be anywhere else but here. But with every star filled night they spent together, the more they thought the prospect of waking up together was something they’d want to do someday, every day. 

There was a night when Roderich went to kiss Francis goodnight, but Francis pulled away before Roderich’s lips even brushed with his own. A wordless frown painted itself on Roderich’s visage, which was riddled with confusion. Francis only smiled at him, but it was different than the smile that Roderich was used to; the one that he had been expecting. This smile had no trace of sadness laced within it, but instead was laced with a happiness that Roderich had never seen in the Frenchman before, or anyone else, for that matter. 

Francis took Roderich’s hand and held it tightly as he began to walk back to the hotel. It was a wordless invitation that Roderich understood and accepted immediately. Francis and Roderich woke up together the next morning, and they both knew that neither of them wanted to wake up without the other ever again.


End file.
